


Slip of the Tongue

by vericus



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Humour, Sunstreaker did not need those mental images
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vericus/pseuds/vericus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's a warrior now, but once he was an artist...and sometimes his artist's eye decides to make itself known in the most disturbing way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip of the Tongue

No one was quite sure why Slag had come to the rec room that day. While the Dinobots were welcome in the room, Slag was rarely ever seen there. So it wasn't surprising that when he did come, he was unfamiliar with the layout, and managed to trip over a chair and send himself sprawling. There was a ripple of laughter around the room, same as if it had been anyone else, but Slag seemed to take the laughter personally, and began cursing violently and threatening everyone in the room as he righted himself. Everyone sort of shuffled their feet in embarrassment and pretended they hadn't laughed...save for Sunstreaker, who sat there, smirking, until Slag finally paused.

"Primus, you kiss your creator with that mouth?" he drawled, but even though it had looked like he was going to continue - he didn't. In fact, he froze, optics wide, as he stared at Slag without really seeing the Dinobot, his attention obviously, suddenly, turned inwards. Slag glared at the golden twin for a few moments before realizing that he wasn't saying any more, and then frowned. The rest of the room, silenced by Slag's outburst, turned curiously to Sunstreaker. A few shot curious looks to Sideswipe, but his attention was focused on Sunstreaker, as well, as he frowned in concern.

"Oh now that's a disturbing image," Sunstreaker's quiet, plaintive comment sounded loud in the now unnaturally silent rec room.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe asked after a moment with a frown, nudging his brother in the shoulder. Sunstreaker didn't reply.

"Him broken?" Slag asked after another pause. In answer, Sideswipe reached into his subspace pocket and pulled out a black, human-sized marker. It was absurdly small in his hands, but Sideswipe managed it deftly, popping off the cap and bringing it up to Sunstreaker's face. Sideswipe hesitated a few inches away, but his brother didn't react, even when the marker came up and left a spot of black on the vain mech's cheek. Sideswipe looked confused as he returned the marker to subspace.

"Yeah, him broken," he agreed.

"Me Slag go get Ratchet," Slag declared, but before he could do as he planned, Sunstreaker suddenly let out a yelp and pushed his chair over backwards, sending himself tumbling to the floor.

"Nothat'snotnecisaryeverythingsfinenoneedtogogetRatchet, noneatallnoreasonforyouandhimtobeinthesameroom, andI'mjustgoingtogoawayandI'mfinethere'snoneedtoworryreallybye!" Sunstreaker did a good imitation of Blurr as he scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door, optics still wide. Everyone, Sideswipe and Slag included, stared after the yellow warrior.

"What's got into him?" Bluestreak asked. Sideswipe shrugged, turning to look at everyone else in confusion.

"I have no idea," he said.


End file.
